


The Beginning of it All

by himewrites



Series: Retailing's Of Stories, Myths, and Legends [2]
Category: POE Edgar Allan - Works, The Cask of Amontillado - Edgar Allan Poe
Genre: Gen, Prequel, don't mock the dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 11:54:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11759313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/himewrites/pseuds/himewrites
Summary: Never speak ill of the dead.





	The Beginning of it All

**Author's Note:**

> I figured there had to be a reason, there is always a reason, regardless of how small or large it may be. I needed a reason, so I made one. Don't get me wrong I love the story as it is, I've just been looking for a reason for so long.

‘Death calls to all,’ those were the last words Montresor remembered being told by his father. Even after twenty-five years that is what stands out the most in his father’s last moments. To this day the memory of his father haunted him. His mind filled to the brim with grief as he blamed himself repeatedly for his father’s death, and the belief that nothing could redeem him was constantly there. 

Soon though, when the clock struck nine, old friends and associates would come to his home, so celebrate knowing the man his father was and died being. He loathed them all. Their kindness towards him, always saying it was not his fault, but he knew otherwise. 

As he looked around he noticed that the servants had set out Sherry.  _ That will not do. _ He thought. His father would never drink Sherry, he would never drink Sherry, and he would be dammed if he let his coming guest drink Sherry. 

Montresor walked out of his home, coat in hand.  _ Montrachet, Father loved Montrachet.  _ He thought as he walked towards the winery.

The walk to the winery was not extremely long, but exceedingly quiet, something Montresor loathed. He normally enjoyed the peace that silence brings, but on inauspicious days such as today. As today, old memories, and old feelings of his father came to the surface.

_ Finally, I am here.  _  Were his thoughts as he saw the winery store.

The winery store was an old building made of bricks and mortar. There was a wooden sign hanging above the wooden door, proclaiming  _ Wilson’s Fine Winery.  _  Garrett Wilson was the owner, and ran the winery by himself with the help of his daughter Marianna.

When Montresor walked into the store Marianna spoke to him. “Good afternoon, sir Montresor. Is there anything I can help you with?” Marianna was a small girl, around the age of sixteen. She had long dark blond hair that was tied in a low tress, with her fringe framing her face, bringing out the blue in her eyes.

Montresor stood still for a few seconds before he began to speak. “Yes Marianna. I was wondering if by perchance there is any Montrachet in stock.” 

“Montrachet…” She mumbled to herself. “Yes, I do believe we have some in the store room. Please look around while I go retrieve it sir Montresor.”

As he looked around waiting for Marianna to come back, Fortunato, an acquaintance of Montresor’s, came into the winery, hobbling around in a drunken state. 

Fortunato soon noticed Montresor and began to try and start a conversation with him. 

_ Fortunato, you are drunk. _ Montresor thought as he answered the drunken man. “I am fine.” _ He usually keeps his drunkenness to himself, in his own home. He positively reeks of alcohol.   _ **“** Hello Montresor, how are you today?” Fortunato asked. His speech was full of slurs and hiccups. 

Fortunato continued to talk, unaware that his efforts to start a conversation were sullied by his drunken state. “What are you doing here today?” he asked, his drunkenness was clear for all to see.

_ At least he has the sense to be polite, even if he is drunk. Hopefully this foolish conversation will end soon.  _ “I am retrieving Montrachet. Tonight I am holding a remembrance party in honor of my father. All of his old associates will be there. He commonly had Montrachet when he was in meetings.”  _ At least he cannot insist to come, as he never knew my father.  _ Montresor thought as he slowly inched his body away from Fortunato, as he no longer wanted to be in the drunken man’s presence. 

**“** Montrachet, I would not expect your father to have bad such bad taste.” Fortunato said, unaware that he had just insulted Montresor’s deceased father.

_ How dare he!? He dares to insult the dead! To insult MY dead father! This filth!  _ His mind began to become a raging mess. _ “ _ My father had excellent taste in wine. You would be careful of what you say. Things never bode well for those who slight the dead.” He sneered at Fortunato. 

“Of course not my friend. I understand. I mean no insult. I was but merely stating that I would expect your father to have the same tastes as you my dear friend.” He said as he continued to dig his own grave.

_ My tastes?! My tastes are the same as my father's. This thoughtless man shall regret his words! This I swear!  _ He screamed within his mind. 

Before Montresor could reply, Marianna came up to him, holding a bottle of Montrachet.

“Sir Montresor, here is the Montrachet you asked for.” She said as she handed him the bottle of Montrachet. “My father says that it is on the house tonight, so please, do not worry about paying. Think of it as a thank you for the Cabernet Sauvignon you brought over the other week.” She said as Montresor began to open his mouth to say that he would pay for it.

Montresor nodded to her. “Thank you, Marianna. Have a wonderful evening.” He said as he left the store. His mind was spinning.  _ Fortunato will pay, for his slights today.  _  He thought as he soon began to prepare himself for the night ahead.


End file.
